Lucky Black Cat
by Gluskabe
Summary: She was just like a black cat; unlucky, unwanted. A patron of misfortune and a forebearer of calamity, whose only fate was to be downed by those souls around her. He was a king over a kingdom of mafiosi, surrounded by control and power the second he was born. Opposites, she supposed, really did attract. Eventual Dino x OC x Hibari Disclaimer: I do not own KHR.
1. Prologue

Lucky Black Cat

Prologue

Cars whizzed past, blurs of color against the quiet black of night. They illuminated the sides of the road in brief flashes of hue before it faded and the numerous walls and buildings were thrown back into the gloom. And unless they were to be extremely observant or focused upon the edges of their peripheral vision, none would have noticed the figure lurking in the shadows as it made slow, deliberate moves with a spray can all across the border of a building. Said figure continued creating markings in various tones until it seemed to , with the tell-tale flash of another car passing, the figure disappeared, and the graffiti was all that was left to suggest a being had ever stopped there. And all that the graffiti said was...


	2. Chapter 1 - The Graffiti Artist

Chapter One

"The Graffiti Artist"

Reborn frowned into his laptop screen. According to the information he had just received, someone was well-aware of his new assignment in Namimori, as said person had expressed so with a short message on a random building wall. And a short message it was; in fact, it only consisted of three words: Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Unfortunately for Reborn, those three words were all anyone would need to be able to piece together his whereabouts and, by extension, his mission and purpose for being in Japan.

Taking a closer look at the information, he was pleased to find that Vongola operatives had already erased the harmful message, and were keeping a close eye on the area. He closed the laptop, the frown from earlier returning with a vengeance. If a mere street artist managed to get this information, how good was the protection on the Vongola network? Even moreso, was this unnamed vigilante friend or foe?

He smirked. Whatever he or she was, no one lasted long when the Vongola was looking for them. After all, if the world's largest mafia family couldn't find someone, who could? But, thinking about it, it was pretty impressive that Vongola hadn't managed to find this mystery criminal yet, what with the high-quality information network.

The thought of this new enigma had Reborn itching with excitement-because wouldn't someone with such impressive evasive skills be great for the Vongola Decimo's family? Once they were found, however, the problem still remained of getting them to accept a position within the mafia. As he pondered more upon the subject, the deeper his frown became. The sound of Nana's voice calling for breakfast broke him from his musings. Oh well, he supposed, the mysterious hoodlum could wait.

* * *

Lucha Meche woke up on a park bench. Not that this was an unusual occurrence; it wasn't as if she had any place to go. It took her a few seconds to come to, finally opening her eyes fully to rest on a figure next to her. She leapt up, fully prepared to take off and never return, only to be grabbed by her wrist and dragged back to sit down. It was only then that she bothered to recognize her attacker.

Her frantic, owlish brown eyes grew a bit more calm as she took in the other's appearance. Meanwhile, the man before her raised an eyebrow, releasing her arm in favor of ruffling her hair-an action that she responded to with a grunt of displeasure and the covering of her head. His ecru locks bounced around, falling in a halo with his face as the center. Indigo eyes peered into her own behind shaded sunglasses, shining brightly. His tanned skin matched nicely with the rest of his features, and his casual outfit made him look strangely like a model on set.

Meanwhile, Lucha was dressed in all black-hoodie, shirt, pants, boots. The only thing that separated her from her dark outfit was her pale white skin, paired with bistre hair that flowed just above her mid-back and umber orbs. Puce lips were set ever so discretely in a pout. The man before her sighed.

"You look like a train wreck on canvas, Lu. You've got to stop doing this. I'll let you room with me until you can afford your own place-just, stop living on the streets. You're gonna get killed," he reasoned, searching for some sign of weakness in her eyes. There was none. She remained silent, not even bothering to grace his plead with a response. He tried again, not willing to give up. "They're after you, you know. The Vongola. They didn't like the little show you put on, with the whole leaking of information and all. They're going to find you. Even faster, if you stay out here. At least if someone's hiding you, you'll have a chance."

Unfortunately for him, she wasn't going to give up, either. "I appreciate your concern, Dwyn. But, it's unneeded. I'll be fine; they won't find me unless I want them to. They never do," she added with a darker undertone, her eyes flashing with something akin to mourning. His own orbs measured her up; this scaredy cat before him, shaking even in the presence of someone she'd known for years. She'd never survive. Not like this. But he knew Lucha, and he knew that when she decided something, nothing could change her mind. He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair in slight irritation.

"You're not gonna give this one up, are you, Lucha? This isn't something I can change your mind about, is it?" he huffed. The corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly at his words.

"No, I don't believe it is," she answered easily, her voice wavering.

"Ah, well, I suppose shelter is all I can offer. My offer's always standing, if you change your mind, Lucha. I'm not going anywhere," he stated, checking his watch, "Except for now. I have to get to work. See you later, Lucha. Go get some food or something; I know you've got some money on you," he winked before jogging off. She stayed there for a few moments, watching his receding figure.

Finally, she stood up. Walking in a random direction, she pondered her options. She could always stay with Dwyn, she determined, but she'd rather leave than as plan Z. For plan A, she could keep aggravating the Vongola, and see how far she got before getting her head chopped off. The thought brought a sigh to her lips. Really now, God had allowed her to live this long, and she was just going to throw it away? How ridiculous.

She shook her head, not even registering the pain as she smashed into another body. Both went tumbling to the ground, each sprawling out in separate patterns. Lucha blinked, sitting up with one fluid motion and resting her eyes on the person laying on the ground, rubbing their head and moaning in pain. Said person was a boy of middle school age, with fluffy, gravity-defying brown hair, and big doe eyes to match. After a few moments of her watching him, and of him nursing his wound, the male realized that there was someone in front of him.

Almost immediately, he started apologizing. "HIEEEE! I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!" he yelled, smashing his head forward in a hasty bow, only to crash his forehead against hers, sending jolts of pain through both of them. She squeaked, throwing her arms up in defense a few seconds too late, curling into a sort of upwards fetal position.

While the two were wallowing in their pain, three more figures had joined them. A tiny foot slammed against the brunette boy's head, sending him flying back several feet. Then, the suited baby turned to Lucha, "I apologize for my useless student. He's so stupid he wasn't looking where he was going," he offered. She just blinked at him, shivering and cowering a bit as she recognized the infant before her.

And if the boy was his student, then that meant she had just collided with the Vongola Decimo. Great. Two more figures appeared, one of them whizzing past to go to the aid of the fallen male. The other, an onyx-haired teen, was laughing cheerily, a carefree manner surrounding him as he extended a hand to Lucha. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, taking hold of her own hand and swiftly lifting her up, forgetting to ask permission.

Lucha, to her credit, was still quaking in fear-something that was an all-the-time occurrence for her, but not for the others. As a result, the hitman baby and his easy-going companion were utterly confused-and the former was a bit suspicious. She didn't waste a second, fleeing before any questions were asked. Soon enough, she was gone from their sights, and all four were left in a slightly shocked, greatly confused state.

Meanwhile, Lucha Meche had run to the nearest suburbs, curling up in the corner of an alleyway with her hands over her head. This was not good. Not good, not good at all. Even if the arcobaleno hadn't immediately suspected her of anything, it was never good to be a face in another's memory bank. If he knew her face, and somehow managed to find out her relations with the graffiti, then he could find her at the drop of the hat. She was so screwed. So, so screwed.

Due to her searching for a solution, she was too distracted to notice the group of men wandering down the alley towards her, kicking over trashcans and other childish things. It appeared that two of them were getting in a disagreement over something-not that she noticed, of course. In fact, she only noticed that others were in the vicinity when she got whacked in the arm by a stray can.

Then they got her attention. Her eyes whipped up to land on the figures a few meters away from her, and she stood very slowly, her eyes trained on the thugs before her. One of the men punched the other, and soon enough the two who had been previously arguing were thrown into an all-out brawl at the center of the ring of muscle-heads.

She sighed, edging towards them slowly before shoving through the crowd to enter the inner ring. At her unwarranted movements, silence fell, and she tapped on the two fighter's shoulders. They stopped their wrestling match momentarily to glance down at her. One of them, a bald guy with a dragon tattoo on his head, gave her a cursory glance. "Whattaya want, lil' girl?" he rumbled. She smiled slightly, though her continuous quivering failed to cease.

"Ah, well, I was just thinking. That prefect from Namimori Middle...uh, what's his name...Hibari, that's it! Hibari usually patrols this area around now, cause it's on his way to school or something, so I think it's be best for you guys if you didn't, 'crowd around,' as he so wonderfully puts it," she explained, rolling her eyes at the thought of the raven-haired pest always flitting around town. The two men blinked at her, and the others stared at her, open-mouthed. Then, all the thugs burst out laughing, the bald man clapping her on the shoulder.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA! You're funny, kid! I like you!" he exclaimed, clutching his side as he doubled over in laughter. After several moments of raucous laughter, he finally sobered up. "So how'd you learn this, ah? Trial and error, maybe?" he chuckled. She smirked ever so slightly.

"Something like that, yeah," she responded. He clapped her on the shoulder again, continuing to laugh.

"Well, thanks for the tip, kid. That little brat's always beating up my men. Do you have any other helpful hints you'd like to share?" he asked, half-joking, half-serious. Her eyes drifted towards the sky as she thought.

"A bunch of the cops are meeting at the doughnut shop on the east side of town tonight. Does that help?" she asked, thinking harder. A large, calloused hand ruffling her hair brought her out of her thoughts.

"Thanks, kiddo. We'd better be heading out-don't wanna get caught by that middle school brat again," he sniggered, turning on his heel and leading the group of brawny men out of the alleyway. Lucha stood there for a few moments, surveying the street with glazed eyes, not bothering to move. Unfortunately, that would soon change, as a certain raven-haired teen was stalking her way.

"Herbivore...for being out past curfew, you will be punished," he growled. Snapping out of it, she shuddered in alarm, blinking at him owlishly.

"What curfew?" she asked. Wrong thing to say. He snarled, lunging towards her with his tonfas out, ready to pound human flesh. Immediately, she whipped out a couple of her many cans of graffiti, blocking the harsh metal of his weapons with the soft tin of her own. She spun on her heel, sending his tonfas off course, and sprayed paint in his face, using the opportunity to take off running.

Hibari cursed as he rubbed his face with his sleeve. Thankfully, he had closed his eyes upon instinct. However, that flighty herbivore had been holding cans of spray paint-meaning he had unknowingly let a graffiti artist escape his grasp. He slammed his tonfa into a trashcan in his fury, stalking the rest of the city for the rest of the night in a frenzy, searching for that stupid brunette pest and beating up anyone in his path.

* * *

**Okay, that's chapter one. Please inform me of any mistakes in spelling/grammar; I try my best, but auto correct is not a happy little critter, and often ends up betraying me by altering my words. Sigh. Oh, the struggle. Moving on: I really hope you enjoyed this. If not, my apologies. I feel like I'm advancing with the story too fast, and I very well may end up re-writing the vast majority of this atrocity. Lucha was originally meant for Hibari, after all, so I've had to do some adjustments in her character. Oops.**

**Also, as cliche and irritating as it must be to hear this, this is my first fan fiction, and thus...I'm still learning. So, if I make her a Mary Sue or end up completely butchering the story and its characters, may the Critic Nazis (is that a thing?) take me away. Just a forewarning.**

**On the whole, thank you for reading! And please, bear with me on this ridiculously long journey of writing a fan fiction. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update, as I'm in quite a difficult school, ranked highly in the nation and well-known for offering up sleep-deprived kids. Thus, I am sorry if my updates slow considerably. Thankfully, summer is only eight weeks away, so hopefully, you won't have to wait long.**

**Well, that is if you continue reading the story. That's all I'm going to ramble about (for now)! Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 2 - Hide and Seek

Chapter 2

"Hide and Seek"

Reborn was not happy; that much was an understatement. In the day that had passed, no new information had been offered on the identity of the graffiti artist. Even worse, more painted material had been found on a wall near a park, this time with the message, "Dino Cavallone," in green lettering.

So, no, Reborn was most definitely _not_ pleased. Neither was Dino. "Don't you have _any_ information on this guy, Reborn?" he asked, hands on his knees as he leaned forward, his eyebrows scrunched together in displeasure. "I mean, he even knew _I_ was coming! How is this even possible?" he yelped. Reborn glared at the floor, thoroughly irritated by the whole situation.

"Iemitsu's lot are baffled, too. Nobody knows what's happening; there aren't any moles or anything. It's like the person just knows everything," he admitted, frustration swelling in his chest. Dino sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Are there any incidents like this before?" he sighed. Reborn shook his head.

"None. Which suggests that the person is a native to Japan, and therefore has only reacted due to our interference in this area."

"Yakuza, then?" he piped, cheering up slightly with his former tutor's deduction.

"Not likely. They'd be flashier about it. It's more likely that this person is offering information for the yakuza. Either way, we need to find out who it is, quickly," the baby responded, sipping his coffee.

"Do you at least have a list of suspects?" he queried, running out of questions to ask on the subject at hand. Reborn paused, staring into the murky depths of his bitter beverage as he thought. Any suspects he could have had were cleared, and there wasn't anyone in Japan with the motive and connections to do this sort of thing. In fact, the only suspicious character worthy of looking into had been that girl Tsuna crashed into at the park.

His expression grew grave as he considered the teen. She had looked to be around seventeen-a minor, no doubt. But when he had searched the databases for someone even remotely similar to her, he had come up with no matches. Overall, the search was fruitless, making him all the more suspicious of her. "Just one," he told Dino, after several minutes of silence. The Cavallone boss threw the infant an exasperated look.

"Then let's interrogate him!" he exclaimed, confused as to why they weren't doing anything. Reborn whacked his former student with a bat, thoroughly irked by the blonde man.

"Dame-Dino! Don't you think I've already _tried_ that? I looked through all the databases we have access to; there is _nothing_ on her. Nothing. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, she doesn't exist. And yet I have physical proof she does. Suspicious, isn't it?" he glowered at the younger male. Dino blinked.

"'_She_'? It's a _girl_?" he yelped. Reborn strongly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Why isn't there anything on her?" This time, Reborn actually _did_ roll his eyes.

"Now, isn't that what we'd all like to know?" he added sarcastically, almost to the point of shooting the young mafia boss in front of him. Dino frowned even more.

"What did she look like? My men and I'll keep an eye out for her while we're here," he suggested eagerly. Reborn frowned. Nothing about her really stood out, after all. Oh, well. Better something than nothing.

"She was about 5'8"; pale white skin, possibly American," they both frowned at this. If she was American, then his theory about territory was almost out the window, "She was thin, and she wore all black. Her eyes were brown, as was her hair, except a few shades darker. And she looked like a deer caught in headlights-she was quaking, even," he summarized. His grimace grew as he thought of the girl. Basically, they were searching for a dark-haired, dark-eyed teenage girl amongst a sea of dark-haired, dark-eyed teenage girls. It was going to be nearly impossible to find this chick. He shook his head, sighing. Sometimes he really wished Iemitsu had moved his family to Italy, rather than leave them in Japan.

Dino sighed, too. "Ah, geez. This is gonna be impossible," he huffed, his hand nimbly gliding through his hair yet again. He stood up, sliding his coat back on as he rose, "Well, I suppose we'd better start looking," he acquiesced, walking towards the door and beckoning Romario to follow. "Good luck on your end, Reborn," he waved as he exited the Sawada household. Stepping out onto the street, Dino ordered Romario and the others to spread out and scour the city, leaving no stone unturned.

Meanwhile, he sauntered off in a random direction. It was early in the morning, so it was highly unlikely for any of them to encounter the girl, but still, it was worth a try.

* * *

Lucha was tired, she decided, as she swung from the bars of a jungle gym. The early morning sun glared down at her, its warm waves piercing her eyes with sharp rays of light. She basked in it as she swayed back and forth, her arms dangling beneath her to lightly scrape the sand beneath her.

She thought of the incidents of the past day. After considering it for a bit, maybe it wasn't such a good idea for her to get involved with the Vongola. But it was already too late, she supposed. She'd be willing to bet money that the baby from the previous day had done some research on her-not that anything would come up, of course, but still. Frowning, she grabbed onto the bar, pulling herself up to sit on top of the obstacle.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she sat, leaning back on her hands and staring blankly at the sky. As if Vongola on her tail wasn't enough, she had unknowingly roped the Cavallone family into it, too, and perhaps worst of all, she had accidentally caught the attention of that bloody pest Hibari. She bit her lip, worrying about her future. "Ah~, how am I gonna pull this off?" she yelled out in frustration, flailing her arms about as she rolled around on the dome-like structure.

However, being that it _was_, in fact, a dome-like structure, she rolled off and ate dirt. Well, sand. Still, it most definitely wasn't pleasant. Unfortunately, her loud clamor to the ground had drawn the attention of a random passerby. The man ran over, "Are you okay?" he exclaimed, stretching his hands out to grab hers and drag her to her feet. She huffed, blowing disgruntled strands out of her face as she blinked at the newcomer. Tremors took over her as she recognized her helper. _'Oh fate, why must you be so bitter?'_ she wondered, raising her eyes to the Heavens above. She could only pray that the baby hadn't suspected her, and hadn't told the blonde what she looked like. Her prayers went unanswered as the larger figure blinked.

"Ah, hey, you're-" he started, only to trip on his own foot and send them both tumbling to the ground. She squeaked, hastily covering her face to protect herself from the bullet that was sure to come. Strangely enough, it didn't. Instead, when she peeked out through her fingers, she saw the blonde sitting on top of her, talking quickly on his phone with someone. The sight of the mobile in his hand sent alarm bells ringing in her head, and she lifted her arms to shove at his chest, successfully pushing him backwards with the force of her blow.

Sadly, he was a mafia boss, and mafia bosses are well-trained. Thus, he reacted quickly, snatching her wrist and dragging her back down. Happily, she was naturally quick-witted, and thus, she whipped out a can of spray paint, smacking him across the face with it. He recoiled, giving her enough time to slip her hand out of his grasp. And with that, she took off yet again. Only to smash straight into a suited chest. She fell back, one hand going to hold her wounded nose. The man in front of her had a fluffy mustache, and seemed to be a subordinate of Dino's.

He picked her up by the collar of her jacket, yanking her over to the shocked Cavallone boss. Meanwhile, more of Dino's subordinates were rushing to the scene, surrounding the playground in a few minutes. Dino stood up, wrestling the spray paint can out of Lucha's grasp and tossing it to one of the many men on stand-by. Continuing forwards, he took hold of her wrists, trying to look into her panicked orbs.

"Hey, hey, calm down. We're not gonna hurt you. It's okay," he tried to reason, speaking with a soothing tone that would make any frightened animal relax. Unfortunately for him, this was not a frightened animal. It was a frightened human. Even worse, it was a frightened Lucha. And Lucha, for all my previous explanations, was a scaredy cat. Thus being, she slammed her head forward, connecting her bony forehead with his chin.

He winced, clutching at the wounded body part as his eyes teared up. She allowed the whiplash to propel her skull backwards, pleased to find that the hardened bone cracked against the mustache man's neck. He, too, dropped his hold on her, and she took off running for the third time, dodging all the lunging mafiosi. She finally made it through the crowd, but she didn't stop running. No, she didn't stop running, not even when she was three blocks away. And, sure, she got many odd looks from passerby, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

* * *

Dino Cavallone was _not_ happy. His face had taken quite the beating from the girl, as had Romario's, and all he had to show for it was a can of spray paint. All of a sudden, a lightbulb went off. If she had a can of spray paint on her, then she must have been the one vandalizing the town! Which meant he had just let their criminal escape.

He sighed, face palming as he shook his head. Unfortunately, he face palmed with the hand that was holding the can, so he was soon wallowing in pain yet again. But then it hit him. The spray paint can! The brand might give them an idea as to who sold them to her, and if they found who sold them to her, then they could, by extension, find her!

The thought brought a smile to his face. He might have lost her this time, but next time, he certainly wouldn't. Dino examined the can, giving a cursory glance to the word engraved in fiery letters, 'AIOLOS.' He smirked to himself. "Romario, run a search on all the stores in this area that sell Aiolos spray paint," he ordered, frowning as he zoomed in on the color. Vermillion? Who sold specific colors of paint? Then he chuckled. Oh, well. The narrower the search, the better. He relayed the information to Romario, who immediately got on the phone, contacting the Cavallone information center.

However, Romario, being the ever-so-faithful subordinate, kept an eye on his boss. Who was practically hugging the can of vermillion paint as he stared up at the sky, eyes sparkling with delight. Yes, his boss was much too happy about this. He chuckled. Maybe this girl could become a possible suitor for the young Cavallone boss. Well, he corrected, that all depended on whether or not they actually managed to catch her. But, who didn't love a good chase?

* * *

**Ugh. This chapter was so short...sorry. I don't know, I'm going really fast with this. I should probably chill and let the plot advance slower...what do you think? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fun-sized chapter! Oops. Moving on...this was supposed to be a Hibari x OC, and then I changed it to Dino x OC, and now it's Dino x OC x Hibari. =_="**

**I'm sorry I'm indecisive to the max.**

**Seriously.**

**Very sorry.**

**That's probably going to affect the story.**

**Till next time!**


	4. Chapter 3 - Dwyn Wynd

Chapter Three

"Dwyn Wynd"

Lucha was sitting on the counter of the paint store, swinging her legs back and forth, when Dwyn came out from the back room, sighing as he dumped a first aid kit before her. He adjusted her chin, applying disinfectant to the scrape marks spread across her face. She flinched at the stinging pain that blossomed with the touch of the antibiotic cream, grunting a bit and trying to slide out of his grasp. In return, he bonked her on the head.

"Oh, no, you don't! I leave you alone for a day and you nearly get caught by the Cavallone family? And now you don't want me to tend to your wounds? I don't think so. Pout it out, sweetie, cause you're definitely not weaseling your way out of this one," he sassed, raising an eyebrow at the uncooperative child before him. As he capped the lid of the small tube and replaced it with a handful of bandaids, he sighed. "None of this would have happened if you'd have just stayed here, you know..." he grumbled. She smiled sheepishly at that.

"A-ah, w-well. You know that's n-not really my t-thing," she stumbled, looking slightly embarrassed that she'd managed to hurt herself while trying to get away. And, really, that guy just _had_ to take her only can of vermillion...She froze. _What if he could find the shop?_ She couldn't let Dwyn get involved over something so stupid. She grabbed at her hair, eyes trained on the floor as she panicked silently.

Meanwhile, Dwyn had finished patching her up. "There," he said, finally satisfied with his work. He met her eyes, ready to see her umber orbs filled with joy that he was so kind to her. Instead, he was greeted with tears streaming down her face as she tackled him.

"I DON'T W-WANNA SEE YOU D-DIE!" she howled, quickly becoming a shivering heap on top of him. He sweat-dropped. After all, that wasn't _quite_ the reaction he was hoping for. She leapt up, snatching her black backpack off his counter and bolting out the back door. He sighed, sitting up and flipping a hand through his ecru strands. Why must he associate with someone so difficult? On that note, he rose, re-packing the kit and placing it back where it originally was.

Dwyn shuffled back behind his counter, slipping on his sunglasses and pulling out a cigarette to smoke as he set a handgun down in his lap. If what Lucha said was true-and it usually was-then he'd better prepare for the mafia.

* * *

Dino stood outside a seedy looking shop. Out of the seventeen shops in Japan that sold vermillion paint, this one was the farthest, and therefore the least likely to be the perpetrator. And out of the seventeen shops, it was most definitely the ugliest. The name itself was spray-painted on in dark letters spelling out, 'Eudora,' in typical graffiti style. The glass door had 'CLOSED' permanently painted on, and various sentences and gang signs lined the rest of the building's outer edges.

Obviously, it wasn't a very welcoming place. Dino eyed it carefully, ordering his men to surround it. Unlike the other sixteen, this shop sent tingles of anticipation riding up his back. He was going to find something here; he knew it. With that excitement running through his veins, he stepped forward, pushing the door open gently and entering the small shop.

The first thing that greeted him was the heavy scent of smoke filling the air, suffocating him and instantly causing him to cough. The second thing he noticed was the specks of dried blood on the floor. Third was the man sitting behind the counter, blowing rings of smoke. Said man was very handsome, Dino decided, and seemed to be a few years older than himself. His hair was a bit darker than Dino's, and he gave off the same foreign aura as the mafia boss did.

While Dino was busy sizing him up, the other man had pulled a gun on him. "You picked the wrong crowd to mess with, Cavallone," he growled. Dino raised his hands slowly, realizing his mistake too late. Well, at least he knew this guy knew something.

"Aha, well, we don't mean any harm," he reasoned. Mafia boss or not, it was never good to be held at gun point. "Now, I would put the gun down if I were you. I've got this place surrounded, after all." The other huffed with amusement.

"Duh. It's kind of hard not to notice that. But it doesn't matter. Because if I pull this trigger, sure, I'll be killed, but so will you. And I think that's pretty good incentive for the mafia to get off her tail, don't you think?" he asked cheerily, a smile on his face as he watched the Cavallone boss. Dino blinked.

"Wow. You've really thought this through...but, I don't think that would get the mafia off her tail. My men and I are going to find her; no matter what," he stated, completely serious.

"And why's that?" Dwyn grunted, lifting an eyebrow. Dino met the older man's eyes.

"Because she has something we want," he explained. "It's hard to find good informants, you know. Especially those that don't have networks. Personally, I've never encountered someone like her. Even when we do run into vigilante informants, they don't spray paint what they know on random city walls. It's a bit strange, isn't it? Strange, but intriguing," he finished.

Dwyn smirked. Let it not be said that the tenth Cavallone boss was a complete idiot. "Well, you're not wrong," he agreed. "But you're not entirely right, either. You see, she _is_ employed. Many need he assistance, after all. It's just that she's a neutral party. Thus, she leaks the information required, but only gives what's necessary, and always makes sure both sides are aware of it. Do you really think it was an accident that Vongola operatives saw the writing the first time? Because it wasn't; she knew they'd find it-that's why she put it there. She's a clever girl, you know. Flighty as a deer, sure, but she's definitely clever. Good luck catching her, cause I really doubt that you will."

Dino narrowed his eyes at the older male. "But I intend to catch her. And when I do catch her, I'm going to ask her to join my mafia famiglia," he boldly blurted, determination shining in his doe eyes. Dwyn's own eyes widened at this.

"Oh? Well, then, don't let me stop you," he smirked, setting his gun down on the counter and taking another drag from his cigarette, lighting it once again for good measure. "I mean, I'm just the gatekeeper. If you truly mean no harm, then I have no reason to shoot you. Carry on, Cavallone. Just don't go whining back at me ten years later when you still can't find her," he taunted. Dino pursed his lips together, slightly irritated by the pest before him.

"It won't take me ten years. I'll find her within the month," Dino assured. Then he faltered a bit. After all, he still had no quality information on the mysterious female. He didn't even know her name. "But, uh, just wondering...what's her name?" he asked, smiling sheepishly. Dwyn raised an eyebrow at him, making sure to blow some smoke his way before answering the question.

"You don't even know _that_? Wow, no kidding. It really is gonna take you ten years to find her," he laughed, tipping his head back in amusement. Dino pouted. Sensing this, Dwyn sobered up, managing to answer the punk properly. "I won't tell you her name, but I can give you her nickname," he compromised. Dino's ears pricked up at that. "People call her the Lucky Black Cat. It's no wonder, either. She really is one lucky little critter," he muttered, falling silent.

The silence lingered in the air, Dwyn staring at nothing as Dino blinked at him, obviously expecting more information. After a minute of quiet, Dwyn seemed to realize Dino was waiting for more knowledge of the girl. At this, he raised his eyebrow, looking down over his sunglasses to pierce the blonde-headed mafiosi with his violet gaze. Dino jolted, quickly muttering a thanks and exiting the shop.

Dwyn sniggered to himself. What an interesting person, he decided as he removed his shades, smashing the cigarette on the ash tray. But, if he thought getting a hold of Lucha Meche was going to be easy? Well, cheers to him, because he wasn't going to come out of the search alive.

* * *

Dino sighed as he left the shop, ruffling his hair frustratedly and calling his men to head back to the Sawada's. He'd be willing to bet that Reborn would like to hear this. As he sauntered through the door, he was greeted with a tiny foot rattling his skull. "Dame-Dino! You let her escape!" the violent child exclaimed, about ready to pummel his former student. Dino scuttled backwards so that his back was pressed against the door, his hands up in surrender.

"W-wait, Reborn! I-I managed to trace her back to a store called Eudora. There was a guy there whose name tag said Dwyn, and he said she goes by the Lucky Black Cat. That helps, right?" he yelped, squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes that Reborn wouldn't hit him again. Thankfully, the baby relented, and instead settled for thinking about what Dino said.

"You idiot! Dwyn Wynd was a famous freelancer from ten years ago! He took down three mafia famiglias because they were suspected of killing his mother. It's amazing you managed to survive an encounter with him. More importantly, 'Lucky Black Cat'?" Reborn asked, deep in thought. Dino blinked.

"Eh? That was Dwyn Wynd?" he screeched. "No way! Then could he have been giving me false information?" he exclaimed. Reborn's gaze darkened.

"No...he never lies, that's one of his good qualities. If he told you anything, then that was truth. But the fact that he said she goes by Lucky Black Cat...that's alarming," he said. Dino blinked, asking why. Reborn resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "The Lucky Black Cat has been a rumor for twenty years. I never once thought it might be true...But, if she really is the Lucky Black Cat, then she'd have to be in her thirties," he speculated. Dino shook his head.

"Impossible. She couldn't have been that old; she looked like a teenager," he objected. Reborn threw him an irritated glance.

"And I look like an infant. Not everyone is what they seem, Dino. You've got to remember that," he frowned. "I'm going to go search for anything related to the Lucky Black Cat. I'll tell you if I find anything," he told the younger male before hopping up the stairs. Dino remained where he was, gaping at the carpet as if it was something to behold. After several moments in silence, he shook his head.

There was no way that frail little girl had been in her thirties. No matter what, Dino didn't believe any curse to be capable of something like that. With that lingering thought on his mind, he stood up, only to be sent crashing to the floor by the opening of the door. Tsuna entered the house. "HIEEEEEEE! Dino-san! What are you doing here?" he squealed, backing up quickly and smashing his head on the door. Gokudera and Yamamoto followed, the former coming to his boss' aid as the latter laughed it off.

Dino, a bit depressed by Reborn's earlier comment, remained motionless on the ground, an action that prompted Tsuna to question his condition. In response, the normally happy adult mumbled into the carpet. "Hrmahrmahrmahrm," was all the boys could make out. They sweat-dropped, dragging the older male to sit on the couch, and asking him to repeat himself. After explaining his predicament to the three teens, silence fell, leaving them all in a pregnant pause too awkward to be healthy.

"So, uh, what are you gonna do about her?" Tsuna asked, attempting to break the unwanted quiet. Dino's eyes flickered upwards to meet his sworn brother's.

"Ah, well, we have to find her, first," he sighed.

"We'll help you! Uh, that is, if we can. I mean, if you need our help-a-and if you guys want to, o-of course," Tsuna said, embarrassed as he turned to his subordinates. After a couple of sentences of assertion shared amongst the trio, he turned back to Dino. "W-what does she look like?" he asked. Dino paused, thinking of the best way to describe her.

"She was wearing all black, and she was a foreigner, judging by her pale skin. Uh, she looked like a deer in headlights. Her hair was kinda long, and brown. Her eyes were, too. Oh, and she had a black backpack. And she uses spray paint cans as weapons. She's kinda tall, for a girl, and she's skinny...and she's pretty," he finished, summarizing her appearance as best he could. The boys froze for a second.

"EH? THAT GIRL FROM THE PARK?" they yelled, all at once. Tsuna clutched at his gravity-defying hair. "Ah, I didn't know she was mafia! Why does everyone in my life have to relate back to the mafia? Agh!" he cried. Dino couldn't help but chuckle at the hormonal teenager in front of him. Somehow, he knew, she wouldn't escape their grasp. After all, this was the mafia, and mafiosi stopped at nothing to get what they wanted.

* * *

**Um, uh...yes. Ish? I tried. Sorry. This really isn't going how I planned. I'll probably end up re-writing this entire story...Sigh. Sorry, sorry. Yup. Tell me if you guys like it or not, cause...I have no idea what you guys think, and I kinda need to know your opinions on the story so I can fix the parts that suck. In short. Sooooooo...yep, review this mess! Or else I really can't get better. Till next time, then!**


	5. Chapter 4 - To Hail From England

Chapter 4

To Hail From England

Lucha Meche was frustrated. One call from Dwyn, and she'd automatically run to hide. They had found him-just like she'd thought they would. Yet, she still ran. She could only thank the Heavens that he hadn't been harmed. But the whole situation really bothered her, she decided. And she needed to do something about it.

With a new idea in her head, she slipped out of the children's slide she had been occupying, managing to run smack into a small child. Said child flopped onto the ground, immediately beginning to cry as he chanted the word, 'To-ler-ate,' over and over again. She knelt down, patting him on the head in an attempt to soothe the child. He was oddly dressed, she thought, with a fluffy afro, horns, cow onesie, and general strangeness.

But, despite all his odd decor, he was most definitely a child, as he immediately clutched at her jacket, sniveling and whining and crying. Eventually, a light haired woman jogged over, grocery bags in her hands. A smaller figure ran beside her, an egg-shaped child with a long braid. The woman seemed out of breath, and the cow-boy automatically ran into her open arms.

"So this was where you ran off to!" she exclaimed, seeming both exasperated and ecstatic at the same time. Then she turned to Lucha, blinking, "Ah, thank you for comforting him! He often gets lost and runs off without my knowledge. He's a bit of a handful, as you can see," she waved her hand cheerily towards the younger female. Lucha, for all her fear, felt strangely unthreatened by the kind woman.

"U-um, s-sure, n-no problem," she stammered awkwardly, standing up to dust off her pants, stiffly wrapping her arms around herself as she stared intently at the ground. The asian girl hopped over, grabbing onto her legs and speaking quickly in Chinese. Lucha blinked, before responding back in choppy sentences, stumbling and stuttering heavily. The small child didn't seem to mind, however, as her face lit up and she continued speaking in her native language.

The two had held conversation for a while, each learning eachother's names, when the other lady commented. "Oh, you speak Chinese! How nice! It's so wonderful to have someone that can understand her. It makes me really sad that I can't talk with her. But for you to be able to; that's great! You should come over sometime! Ah, I'm Nana, but you can call me Mama," she gushed, clasping Lucha's hands with sparkles in her eyes. Lucha shrunk back, subconsciously curling in on herself as she flinched from the contact.

"U-uh, i-if you w-want me t-too, t-then that's f-fine, N-Nana-s-san," she faltered, on the verge of tears. Humans were so hard to deal with. Nana gave her a wide smile, seeming happy at the flighty girl's response.

"Of course I want you to! Here, I'll write down the address for you..." she handed the quaking teen a slip of paper, a string of numbers and letters written in neat, elegant handwriting. Nana glanced at her watch, slapping a hand to her cheek, "Oh, no, look at the time! I can't be late for dinner!" she exclaimed. "Alright, I-pin, Lambo, let's go. It was a pleasure meeting you, ah..."

"L-Lucha M-Meche," the shy girl filled in. Nana beamed at her.

"What a pretty name! Do visit soon, Lucha-chan!" she chimed, taking hold of the children's hands and exiting the playground. As soon as the trio was out of sight, Lucha slumped to the ground, hands clutching her shoulders as she fell into a crying mess on the ground. What was she doing, talking with those people?

Innocents, that's what they were. Completely uninvolved strangers. But they were just so _nice_. The little girl had been so talkative, and Nana was so kind. The cow-boy wanted to play with her, and they were all _so_ inviting and just welcoming in general. She curled up into a fetal position. She couldn't go to Nana's house. She just couldn't. That wasn't the life she was meant to live-a carefree life with friends, and a family. No, she was an informant. And informants did not play nice with random civilians.

She sobered up, digging her phone out of her pocket and dialing a familiar number. The person picked up halfway through the first ring-just like they always did. "Ryan? I need you to help me out with something..."

* * *

Nana walked into the house, unpacking the groceries as she began to fix dinner. Reborn hopped onto the countertop. "You're late, Maman. Did something keep you?" he asked. If someone had messed with the nice woman before him, he'd make sure to torture them endlessly. Nana smiled, fondness dancing in her eyes as she stirred the rice.

"Oh, just Lambo running off again. He was really lucky, this time. He ran to the local playground, and met this nice girl. She was a bit shy, and seemed afraid, but the kids really liked her! I invited her over to spend time with the kids sometime. I really hope she comes, she got along with I-pin particularly well. Apparently she knows Chinese, too! Such a smart girl...I wonder where she goes to school? Maybe she could help Tsu-kun with his homework!" she cooed, placing a hand on her face as she thought of the girl in the park.

Meanwhile, alarm bells were going off in Reborn's head. A scared girl in the park? Coincidence? He thought not. The universe was hardly ever so careless, after all. "Ah, Maman, what did she look like? I think I might have met her before," he tried sounding nonchalant; not that Nana would suspect something anyways. The woman raised her eyes to the ceiling in thought.

"Well, she looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights. She flinched whenever one of us would touch her...She had long brown hair and brown eyes, and her skin was pale...Oh, and she was wearing all black!" Nana explained. Reborn's gaze darkened. How did everyone manage to run into this child _except_ for him? At that, he stomped up the stairs, opting to take out his anger on his stupidly useless student. He kicked the door open to see the three musketeers camped out on the floor, talking in hushed tones to one another.

"A-ah! R-Reborn!" Tsuna yelled, flying backwards in shock and fear. The hitman narrowed his eyes.

"Dame-Tsuna...what are you doing?" he asked, a threatening tone taking hold in his voice and Leon transformed into a gun.

"H-H-HIEEEEEEE! A-ah, w-w-well, you see, D-Dino-s-san c-came over and t-told us about a girl that was l-leaking i-information about his arrival, and it t-turned out to b-be the one we m-met at the p-park the other day, so we f-figured we'd ask a-around and see if anybody k-knew her. We haven't had any luck so far, though," he admitted as an afterthought. Reborn was surprised, to say the least. His useless student had actually taken the initiative to join in on something related to the mafia. Huh. Maybe Reborn had been underestimating him, after all.

"Yeah, well, this woman's really elusive. Nobody's even seen her, outside of us. And if people have seen her, then they're certainly not talking. We've been searching for hours, but nothing's come up," Gokudera grunted, looking more than slightly pissed off. Yamamoto laughed it off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Maa, maa. Maybe we're just not looking hard enough. After all, Dino-san said that the guy at Eudora knew her. If we just ask everybody we know has had contact with her, won't the pieces come together?" Yamamoto suggested cheerily. Tsuna brightened.

"T-that's a great idea, Yamamoto-kun!" he exclaimed, "Alright, let's make a list of everybody who's had contact with her," he continued, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen.

"Ah, we should probably right down where they met her, too, so that we can at least guess where she frequents," Yamamoto added. Indignant that the baseball-idiot was getting praised by his Juudaime, the octopus-head snatched a pad of paper.

"Allow me, Juudaime!" he yelled, scribbling furiously about everything he knew of the girl. Reborn tilted his head down, deep in thought. Maman and Dino had met her on separate occasions at the playground. He himself had come across the strange child at the park. And it would seem that she often appeared at Eudora, if what Dwyn had told Dino was anything to go by. He smirked. Just considering the playground and park factors, he could assume that she liked public places children hung out at, a theory proven by Maman's comment about her interaction with the kids.

He picked up his phone, speaking quietly into the device to inform the Vongola operatives to keep an eye on all the playgrounds and parks in the area.

* * *

It had been a week since anyone had heard from the brunette teen. Even Dwyn had contacted the Vongola, demanding to know if they had harmed her in anyway. And if anyone did know where the strange child had gone, none dared to speak.

Tsuna and his guardians continued scouring the city for the elusive girl, as did Dino and his men—heck, even Hibari was searching for her, albeit for different reasons than the others. But, unfortunately, none had succeeded. I-pin and Lambo kept asking for "Lucha," the former calling her his servant, a statement that always incited I-pin to yell, "Lambo! No!" and chase him around the house.

Dino had gone back to Italy to attend to family matters—after all, a mafia boss couldn't leave his station for too long. Romario had stayed however, along with several others, to keep searching for her.

Reborn, after running many programs in search of a "Lucha Meche" was sorely disappointed, as there were no records of a Lucha Meche ever existing. Furthermore, all incidents involving the "Lucky Black Cat" had been covered up, as all witnesses were dead and no reports of the situations ever surfaced.

So it was safe to say that there was no hope for the mafiosi. At this rate, it really _would_ take ten years to find this girl.

Dino read over the report sent by Romario, reviewing the situation. Apparently, she hadn't been sighted by anyone in the area—not even random civilians. Even more surprising, some of those they questioned were quite worried for the young girl themselves. One old lady, who owned a small shop selling various trinkets, had asked if something bad had happened to her. Evidently, Lucha had made a constant appearance at the shop, always buying the most random objects for no apparent reason.

The extra note about the shopkeeper made him frown, as it had been followed by several other examples of store owners who had similar interactions with the shy female. Surely she couldn't have bought all those things for a _reason_. After all, he didn't know anyone who needed a bunch of strangely shaped glass bottles, baskets, ceramic roosters, and metal cows. An odd child, for sure.

Or maybe, Dino thought, maybe she wasn't odd at all, as Romario pointed out later on in the note. After background checks were run, it was obvious that the shops Lucha frequented had financial troubles. This fact, strangely enough, made him favor the girl even more—something that didn't escape his right hand man's notice.

Finally, he reached the end of the letter, sighing and allowing his hands to drop to his sides. Why was it so hard to track down a fragile little kid?

* * *

Hibari was pissed, to say the least. It had been over a week since he had encountered the rule-breaking brunette, and there was still no sign of her. He had tracked down anyone he even thought could be involved with her, beating the more obstinate ones until he realized they knew nothing. His search had continued on this way, until he got an anonymous tip to find some herbivore named Dwyn. Thus, he made a trip to the ratchet old shop called Eudora.

Smashing the door down, he stepped into the shady building, sniffing in disgust at the smell of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air. He scanned the room quickly, before his eyes landed on the guy behind the counter, who was snoring quite obnoxiously with a hat covering his face. A vein popped on Hibari's forehead as he promptly slammed his tonfas down on the countertop, startling the man.

"Herbivore…I'm looking for another herbivore named Dwyn," he growled, leaning over toward the frightened figure in a threatening manner. The guy blinked.

"Ah, Dwyn? Sorry, he ain't her' at the momen'. If you like, I could, ah, pass on a message?" the other man suggested. Said man appeared to be in his late forties, with a scruffy face, murky hair, equally murky eyes, and general bad posture. Plus, he smelled like fish. A sailor, maybe? Definitely someone that worked near the docks. So what was he doing in a dinky little shop in the middle of the hood?

"Where is he?" Hibari demanded, his nose almost touching the older man's.

"Aya, younguns these days…" the man mumbled, before answering the boy's question. "Ain't nobody know where he run off to. He's always a-stumblin' off, him an' that other girl he hangs out with. Ah, whuz her name? Lu…Lu…Luanna? Lubna? Lube? Ah, Lucky! I think that wuz it…Yeah, gots ta be. Whuh you want, anyhoo, son?" he stammered. Hibari glared, grabbing the man by his shirt.

"I want information. Where's the herbivore?" he spat. The man just shrugged, and Hibari was about to hit him. Fortunately for the raggedy man, another man entered the shop. This man was considerably prettier than the first, with sparkling violet eyes paired with lightly tanned skin and ecru blonde locks. Finding this newcomer a more promising prospect than the other, Hibari dropped the sailor guy.

The blonde man smiled. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" he asked, his slightly creased eyebrows the only indication of his confusion. Hibari smirked.

"Are you the Dwyn herbivore?" he ordered. The blonde raised an eyebrow at this, shrugging.

"That depends. I can be, if you want me to. But I'd really rather not. I'm a bit upset with '_Dwyn,'_ right now. He accidentally chased away his friend. I'm not to happy about that," the man sang, albeit with a darker undertone. Hibari tensed, sensing this, and stepped into a fighting stance. The look in this herbivore's eyes was much too bloodthirsty for a regular civilian.

"What do you know of the girl?" he snarled. Dwyn's face turned blank.

"What girl?" he deadpanned. Hibari's glare intensified, if it were possible.

"The herbivore."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific. There are lots of vegetarians on the planet, believe it or not," Dwyn countered dryly.

"The graffiti herbivore," he hissed. Dwyn's own eyes narrowed.

"Eh? Now what would you want with her, little boy?" he taunted. The two just stood there, motionless, gazes challenging each other.

"She broke the rules," Hibari finally stated, deciding to be blunt. Dwyn laughed.

"Yes, well, she does do that. I don't see how that has anything to do with you, though," he responded. Hibari frowned.

"She must be punished," he continued. Dwyn sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"But why _you_? I don't see a police badge anywhere."

"Your shop violates health code."

"Yes."

"You need to be punished."

"Probably."

"Prepare to be bitten to death," Hibari smirked, lunging forwards. Dwyn dodged swiftly, spinning behind the younger male and planting a kick to his back. Said male spun around, whipping out a tonfa to meet with the barrel of a gun.

"You know, I really hate kids like you. No respect for elders, that's right. Well, you all can die for all I care. You should die, really," the blonde haired man mumbled darkly, a shadow crossing over his face, lighting up his eyes to shine with a hint of vermillion. For some odd reason, this look sent alarm bells ringing dully in the back of the raven-haired boy's mind.

His head tilted to the side just as a bullet whizzed past his ear, the sound reverberating in his skull with unwanted vigor. Normal bullets didn't sound like that, Hibari thought whimsically.

"Oiya, Dwyn, don'choo be messin' up da shop, now, ya hear? Don' you want Lucky ta come back? How she gonna do that when it's all busted up?" the brown haired man reasoned, smacking his hand down on the wooden counter. Dwyn glanced up at this, the murderous intent leaving his countenance in one fell swoop.

He removed his gun, sliding it fluidly into an unseen holster as he sunk down, dumping himself into a rickety folding chair. "Sit," he sighed, staring somberly at the ground. When Hibari gave no signs of movement, Dwyn lifted his eyes, raising a golden brow at the black haired boy. "Sit down, and I'll tell you what I can." It was Hibari's turn to raise his eyebrow. Dwyn rolled his eyes at this. "Don't make me change my mind," he threatened. At this, Hibari was quick to take a seat, pulling up a spare chair and wrinkling his nose at the dust only once before planting his bottom on it.

Dwyn chuckled at the sight, only silenced by the porcelain boy's glare. He cleared his throat to shake away the laughter, sighing after he had done so. Once again, he found his eyes trained on the scuffed floor. "There's not much to tell, really."

"Then start with her name," Hibari suggested, thoroughly irritated by the older male. Dwyn scoffed.

"She goes by Lucha Meche. I don't know if that's her real name, though. Probably not, but it's what she goes by, so we often leave it at that. She doesn't like to talk much about it, not really. Then again, so few of us want to share our past. Anyways, she showed up around ten years ago. She was just a girl, then. Roughly around seven, I'd say, although none of us actually know when her birthday is. She was a strange little girl—she just walked into the bar we hang out at one day, nothing but a beat up backpack and some clothes on her back, and asked for a cup of hot chocolate. We were really confused, you know. After all, children don't usually waltz into bars and ask for a random beverage.

She was really persistant, though, and eventually we just sent someone to get her some hot chocolate out of good humor. Meanwhile, she entertained us, telling various stories about people she knew of. Interesting stories, they were, stories in which you would think she knew more about the person than they themselves did. They were vivid tales, too. Lovely raconteur, we all thought.

So, she told us stories, and we bought her some hot chocolate. Then, when she was done telling tales, and had finished her cocoa, she thanked us for the drink and left. We all found the whole thing extremely odd, you know, but, nonetheless, we were curious. What a strange child, we thought. A strange child, indeed.

But, we all let it go, drinking the rest of the night away without skipping a beat. It was a one-time deal, we had presumed, but there she showed up again the next night, requesting the same beverage. We were baffled, really, but set out to meet her demand. In return, she told us more stories. This time, however, she taught us some songs, and even some drinking games. Then, like the first time, she finished her cocoa and left. She kept coming back, always requesting the same thing as payment for her services.

At some point we began to wait for her, more people coming into the bar when it was close to time for her to appear. And when she came, we'd all cheer, and she'd grin and crack a joke before settling down and spewing out pretty streams of words.

Those were the good days," Dwyn said, frowning. "But, one day, she didn't show up. We panicked, calling the cops to ask if they had seen her. But when they asked for a name, we realized that she hadn't ever told us. For weeks we had focused on this child, and yet none of us knew her name. The police said they'd do their best to find the kid, though it'd be hard with that little amount of information. They never did find her. I did, though.

You see, after hearing all those tales told, I began to wonder if they were really lies, like everyone had first assumed. After all, who could come up with all those wacky characters? And that many, on top of that? So, safe to say, I was interested in where she had learned all this. Thus, I set out to find her. I searched for several months—mind you, I was still a teen at the time—but to no avail.

It was as if she didn't exist on the surface world. So, I turned to the underground for help. I mean, if a seven year old disappears all of a sudden, there are only so many possibilities as to what happened to them. While I was looking for her, I found it necessary to take up jobs. I needed high-paying jobs that were short-term; how could I ever find her with a long-term job? Because of that, I decided to become a marksman. It wasn't that much of a challenge for me—a man's head is bigger than a turkey's, you know. But I only killed those that I felt could have some connection to her.

Nine years passed like this, but, finally, I found her. Well, it was more of a coincidence, than anything else. I had been assigned to take down this drug dealer down in South America, and apparently, she had some qualms with him, too. But, well, she wasn't there as Lucha Meche. She was there as the Lucky Black Cat, a notorious vigilante known for being oddly neutral.

Evidently, being the Lucky Black Cat was a blood thing, and she inherited the title from her mum, who had taken it from her older sister. That was all she said about it. Well, anyways, I killed the guy so she didn't have to, and we headed back to England," he stated. Hibari blinked at this. England? "Ah, did I forget to mention the bar was in England? Well, it was." Hibari scowled. What an inconsistant herbivore. "Moving on. So I managed to convince her to come back with me to England. But, she was…different. She didn't tell anymore stories, and she was more flighty than a deer. She'd flinch at the softest of noises and hide at the loudest.

Oh, and here's a part you'll like. She took up graffiti. I just came home one day to find spray paint covering my walls. And it's hard to get mad at her, you know, cause she meant no harm. Well, I didn't care anyways, but still. She said it started out as an accident, but then it made her feel safe, so she just kept painting. I said it was fine, since she looked better than before I left. She smiled at that.

So I kept doing jobs, and I'd leave her with the apartment. But she got bored. So she went out and did some jobs herself. I made her swear off field work, though. There's no reason for a kid to be forced to kill someone. Instead, she became an informant. A bloody good one, too. She could get any information you needed—the only catch was, she'd also inform others that she knew, and had told.

After seeing her information gathering skills firsthand, I knew for sure that those stories she told weren't lies. Truths, they were, all truths. Hundreds and hundreds of truths. She's amazing," Dwyn trailed off, looking at the ground again. But Hibari wasn't satisfied.

"How'd she get here?" he grunted, indignant that the older man hadn't finished his story.

"Well, ah called 'im o'er her'. Didn' expect a lil' girl ta be wit' 'im, though. That wuz a su'prise," the weird old man piped, breaking his own silence. Hibari narrowed his eyes at him.

"Why did you call them over?" he demanded. The brunette scratched his chin.

"I needed sum 'elp stickin' da shop together, cuz I wanted ta go fishin' wit mah buddies. An' he's mah cousin's nephew's son thrice removed, so I thought I'd a-call 'im o'er to 'elp out an' such," he supplied. Dwyn rolled his eyes.

"And that's the gist of it. This's Ole Shiley, by the by. Born and raised in who-knows-where. So, that's how she ended up here," Dwyn summarized. Hibari still looked irked by the lack of information.

"Where is she _now_?" he asked. The blonde man sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"I really wish I knew. And I'm gonna keep looking. I just hope that, this time, it doesn't take nine years," he chuckled bitterly. Hibari silently agreed, before slipping out the door with grace unfitting of the reckless teen.

* * *

**Wow, okay, hi. There's chapter 4 for you. I hope you like it, although it is a bit slow. I felt the need to explain Dwyn and Lucha's relationship a bit, as well as what she's like and stuff. Ugh. It's crap, I know. I'll fix it later. But right now, it's 11:33, so here you go. Have fun with this piece. Yay. Excitement. I really need sleep...**

**Review, please, so I can know what all to fix. Now, I bid you good night.**


	6. Chapter 5 - Ryan Blue

Chapter 5

Ryan Blue

Lucha sat on the couch, sighing as she sunk into the mushy yellow sofa and reveling in the comforting fluff now surrounding her wimpy form. She sipped some murky beverage from a pale mug, her fingers curled tightly around the small item as she breathed in the wonderful scent of hot chocolate.

While she was enjoying the balmy sensation of marshmallows melting in her mouth, another figure entered the room. This person was very masculine—not to the point of being a 'roided-out muscle head, but rather an eye-pleasing, lean, beautifully fit hunk. Paris green tufts were cropped close to his head, but still managed to drizzle down the center of his face to touch lightly on his nose.

The sides of his head were shaved, and bore various swirling designs. His skin was tanned a pretty shade, darker than bronze. In fact, one could go as far as to say that his skin was brown—not anything else, just a light brown. He was shirtless—a fact that allowed for the appearance of his many abdominal muscles, as well as the powerful curves of his arms. Baggy shorts adorned his form, clinging to what they could and swooping a bit lower than might be labeled as decent.

Again, the lack of longer clothing granted a view of amazingly sculpted calves, which tapered into feet covered by flip-flops. He smirked as he moved further into the room, dragging a towel across his sweating form. Plopping down into a feathery-looking armchair, his efforts drew the attention of his companion.

She raised a brow at him. "Ryan…don't tell me you went for a run in _flip-flops_!" she objected. His smirk changed to a grin, showing his teeth in an oddly animalistic fashion. Lucha rolled her eyes before squinting at his choice of footwear. "…Hey, aren't those girl shoes?" she pondered aloud. His face took on a grimace.

"…Yeah. They're more comfortable…" he mumbled. She giggled at this, and he blushed ever so slightly, a pout now evident on his countenance. After a few extended moments of her giggles, he decided to switch the topic. "So, what did you need help with?" She froze at this, sobering up quickly.

"Oh, that. Well, see, it's a…uh…personal problem?" she offered, not quite sure as to where she was going with her comment. He raised an inquisitive brow, cueing her to continue. She shrugged awkwardly. "I…kinda think I might have gotten Dwyn in a little bit of trouble with the mafia," she finally muttered, looking away as if she were ashamed.

Ryan blinked. Then he promptly burst into laughter, clutching his stomach in his struggle. Now it was her turn to turn red and pout. "You…y-you _seriously_ think…that _Dwyn_…is gonna be threatened by the _mafia_? C-come on…_really_?"

"It's not unreasonable! I mean, I kinda got wrapped up in some mafia business recently, and, well, I think they tracked me to Dwyn's place. And I don't want him to get caught up in all of this," she explained. Ryan's expression turned dark.

"What do you mean you got caught up in mafia business? Who's messing with you, ah?" he inquired darkly. A jolt ran up her spine.

"T-that is…just a couple of…er, guys…and…the tenth Cavallone…and some other guys…and this Hibari kid…and Reborn…and some guys…and Vongola tenth…and some guys," she stated, awkwardly trying to put a gap between each person she listed. His golden orbs narrowed immediately.

"_Who_?" he hissed angrily. She threw her hands up, her mug forgotten on the coffee table before her.

"N-nobody! Just some guys! It's not a big deal, or anything, trust me, I just wanted to keep Dwyn out of it, and…all," she finished weakly. His gaze hardened.

"Lucha, Dwyn doesn't need your help. He'll be fine on his own. _You're_ the one we need to worry about, since _you're_ the one they're after," he reasoned, a bit irritated at the frail teen sitting quietly on his couch. Silence fell for a moment, him watching her while she fiddled with her fingers.

"Uh, well, I'm here now, so…problem solved?" she squeaked. Just as he opened his mouth, she continued, "I want you to make me disappear!" she burst out, eyes squeezed shut as her face scrunched up. Ryan blinked. Then he smirked.

"Now, why would I ever do that?" he drawled. She opened her murky orbs, staring at the masculine figure in front of her. He sighed, the smirk falling off his face to be replaced with a stony frown. "You don't really want to disappear again, Lucha. I don't want you to. We both know Dwyn doesn't want you to. And I'm pretty sure that those guys who're looking for you don't want you to disappear, either," he commented.

"Don't you get it? That's why I have to go. As long as I'm here, they'll come after me, and by extension, they'll come after Dwyn. I don't want that to happen," she pleaded. His eyes narrowed slightly. Now she was just being whiny.

"Shut up, Lucha. It's not that big of a deal. I just told you he can hold his own—what, you think some baby and a bunch of kids are gonna chop off his head? It's more likely he'd chop off theirs. Quit worrying about him. He's going to be fine—"

"But I can't _not_ worry about him—"

"—Then just turn yourself in, already!" he snapped, thoroughly chafed by the conversation. Noticing her surprised and hurt expression, he cradled the bridge of his nose and explained. "Just go up and talk to them. If they mean you any harm, they'll have to deal with Dwyn and I. Although, Dwyn is a bit more of a threat…" he trailed off, appearing to be in deep thought. He stayed like that for several minutes, and when he looked back at the mushy yellow couch, Lucha had disappeared.

But, Ryan was a rather unconcerned citizen, so he simply shrugged and drank the rest of her forgotten hot chocolate.

* * *

Lucha wandered the streets, stopping every once in a while to buy some random gadget or food item that caught her interest. She watched the people around her, simultaneously scoping out the buildings in the area. There were a few that would be perfect to draw on—they were hidden, so that normal passerby wouldn't see them, but weren't so elusive that a prominent figure of the underworld would miss the doodles.

The thought of new places to practice her graffiti cheered her up, and she was able to put more of a bounce in her step as she ambled down the lane. This extra bounce proved to be both a blessing and a curse. It was a curse because, lo and behold, her head bobbing above the crowd caught the attention of a certain raven-haired prefect.

It was a blessing because, when he swiped his tonfa towards her head, she had enough energy built up from her bounces to dodge. She stumbled back, her hands swinging backwards to rest on the wall behind her. He stepped into a ready stance, his stormy grey eyes narrowing. "For corrupting the peace of Namimori, prepare to be bitten to death," he threatened. She blinked, before slowly realizing that he was, in his own little way, challenging her. She nodded sluggishly before whipping out two cans of spray paint from her backpack.

This seemed to be a sign for the male in front of her, as he immediately ran forward to swipe at her continuously. She dodged and blocked, never attacking head-on. Ditching weapon-on-weapon combat, he threw a roundkick at her. She leapt into the air, crossing her arms to block any attacks he might make while she was airborne—and wisely so. A tonfa connected with the tin cans held tightly in her grasp.

Feeling the metal bar making contact with her own weapons of choice, she pushed back, using a surprising amount of force and sending him stumbling back a few steps. Safety came with distance, and she felt that it was the perfect time to try and reason with this instinctual child. "H-hey, I don't k-know w-what your p-problem is, but if you w-want, we can t-talk about it over t-tea…or s-something," she suggested awkwardly. He just stared at her blankly. "U-um…I'll treat, s-so…" she tried to get him to respond, but he didn't. Instead, he started a new topic.

"You're from England," he stated. She blinked.

"A-Actually, I'm from A-America," she corrected, a bit uncomfortable knowing that he knew something of her past.

"But you were in England," he continued, never asking questions, but expecting answers. She nodded hesitantly. He looked satisfied. "The Dwyn herbivore didn't lie." She bristled at this, stepping into a battle stance.

"What did you do to him?" she exclaimed. Various emotions were dancing across her face—the most prominent being distrust, fear, and anger. He was a bit shocked at the latter of the three. After all, who would imagine that this weak child would be capable of an emotion such as anger?

"I talked to him," he commented bluntly. She softened a bit at this.

"You didn't hurt him?" she asked, seemingly relieved. He thought her concern was misplaced. Why was she worried over that herbivore? He was definitely stronger than her, and could definitely hold his own. There was really no reason for her to get so defensive over him.

But instead of stating his thoughts, he merely replied, "No," an answer that, obviously, pleased her greatly. She beamed at him.

"That's great! Thanks," she offered. "Wanna go get lunch?" she queried innocently. Hibari was taken aback by her suddenly open personality. A simple reassurance of her friend's safety was enough to make her outgoing? What a strange herbivore. However, Lucha thought it was perfectly normal.

After all, if someone did you a favor (which, inadvertently, he did), then you must return it. Buying him lunch would be some form of return—at least, that's what she thought. Yet, he looked so unwilling to accept her offer. Who did that? How could anyone ever refuse free lunch?

Safe to say, both teenagers were baffled by one another, and, unbeknownst to them, had been openly gawking at each other for several minutes. Lucha, being the more observant of the two when it came to awkward situations, broke the silence first. "S-so, uh…lunch, then? I-I know a place t-that's, er…it's p-pretty good. If, you, uh, want A-American food, that is, um, but you probably wouldn't. That's okay, um, I know a sushi place, too! Would that be better? I think that'd be better," she rambled, struggling to find words to set ground upon. Once she finished her little mini-rant, Hibari blinked at her. Then, without any warning, he turned from her and stalked off.

Lucha, feeling guilty for not returning his favor (even though it wasn't really a favor), ran after him. When she caught up with the head of ebony, she parked herself right beside him—an action that had his eye twitching a bit, as he was not particularly fond of anyone walking directly next to him. They continued walking, neither saying anything, until he finally stopped in front of a sushi shop. He swept in, leaving her to stumble awkwardly after him, and perched at the bar. Blindly following him, Lucha spared not a glance for the second dark-haired teen in the room, whose eyes widened as he quickly disappeared out the back of the building.

Hibari had narrowed his eyes at this, but said nothing, and instead chose to wait for another server while Lucha chattered on nervously about random things—was she admiring the color of the walls? "It's a wonderfully basic color, so I could take any array of colors to paint…wow, there are so many pictures you could paint on these walls…they'd make a nice warning for that stupid Abandonato boss…and you could draw sushi on them and everything! Saba nigiri would look really nice…ooh, and maybe some tekka maki! Yes, saba and tekka would look really pretty together. Hey, mister!" Even Hibari was startled by her sudden yell.

A middle-aged man made his way out of the back room, smiling at her. "Yes, little missy?" he asked playfully. She beamed at him.

"Can I paint on your walls? Cause I think some saba nigiri and tekka maki would add a lot to the room, don't you agree?" she chattered amiably. He blinked at her before laughing whole-heartedly.

"Sure, if it makes you happy! Now, can I get you kids something?" he asked. Hibari ordered first, leaving the man to turn to Lucha last—only to realize she wasn't there. At this, he blinked, before finding her avidly painting the wall.

"I'll just have whatever he had, mister," she called, continuing to doodle absent-mindedly, a smile lighting up her expression. The man just laughed, starting to prepare the meal whilst shaking his head at the young girl's antics. It continued like this for a while, Hibari gingerly biting into his plate of sushi with Lucha humming and painting in the background and the man watching with a grin on his face.

However, all good things must come to an end, as was proven when a particular baby hopped into the picture, landing beside Lucha to watch her work. Surprisingly enough, she was so engrossed in her painting that she didn't notice his appearance at first. But when the man commented, "Hello, Reborn! Where's Tsuna?" she immediately dropped her can, eyes wide with horror as her head whipped around to gape at the arcobaleno. She squeaked, bolting out of the room.

Ten seconds later, she rushed back in, placing the proper amount of yen on the counter and yelling for Hibari to finish hers, and that she'd finish her painting later, before running out the door again. Hibari, who had narrowed his eyes at her comment to him, merely chose to request for the man to wrap up her sushi plate for to-go.

Meanwhile, Reborn had seated himself beside Hibari. "Ciaossu, Hibari. Why was she here?" he asked, his hat shadowing his eyes. The obstinate teen glared at him.

"Baby," he acknowledged, nodding his head once before returning to his meal. Reborn couldn't help but be irked by his silence on the matter.

"Hibari, answer my question."

"Go ask that Dwyn herbivore," he responded shortly. Reborn was a bit surprised at this. So Hibari had interviewed the former assassin, too, then. He smirked at this. Maybe it was time to pay the blonde killer a visit—personally.

* * *

Dwyn sighed as the door opened once again. But, instead of it being another one of the obnoxious youngsters that had been flitting around recently, he found himself looking into the eyes of an infamous hitman baby. His gaze hardened, and he frowned a bit as he greeted the mafiosi. "Reborn."

"Dwyn. I assume you know why I'm here?" he inquired—well, it was more of a statement. Dwyn sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

"Probably the same reason as those runts," he sniffed, not bothered to elaborate. Reborn leapt onto the countertop, standing before the blonde.

"I suppose you could say that. Although, I'm sure they didn't ask any of the right questions," he commented. Dwyn smirked at this, leaving the other to continue. "While you might not know exactly where she is, you can probably make a guess, right? So, guess," he ordered. Dwyn shrugged.

"Oh, yeah, I've got lots of guesses. You can always guess where she goes—that's the easy part. It's narrowing down the guesses that's the hard bit. Because no matter how many guesses you have, it doesn't matter if you can't pick out the right one. She makes friends with thugs; she might be hanging out with one of them. She makes friends with rich kids; she might be crashing at one of their houses. She makes friends with hobos; she might be sitting in a park with one of them. She makes friends with policemen; she might be loitering in the station. She makes friends with gangs; she might be at one of their bases. The thing is, I don't know, and it would take years to track her down by looking that way. It's impossible. Sure, she likes playgrounds, but when she's hiding? She's not going to stay there. And she's not gonna come here, either. So if you're expecting her to show up in my shop? Move along," he growled. Reborn's eyebrows furrowed.

"Are there any people she's particularly close to?" he queried. Anything would help, at this point. Dwyn fell silent for a minute.

"Yeah, there are. I can give you the list, too. But, listen to me. If you rope her into the mafia,—worse, the Vongola or Cavallone families—and she gets killed, I will not hesitate to destroy you all. Trust me on that one. And it won't be impossible, because I won't be the only one avenging her. She might be a neutral party without allies, but that doesn't mean people don't ally with her," Dwyn warned. Reborn sniffed.

"I'll keep that in mind. Where's the list?" he asked. Dwyn laughed a bit.

"It's auditory, of course. You really think she'd let me write down all her little friend's names? That's funny. So listen carefully," he smirked, before jumping right into the lengthy list. "Scott Smith, Carol Westley, Addie Jones, Yamachi Cartivual, Ryan Blue, Jokayles Davis, Caleb Sill, Ismail Duchamps, Ueda Tarou, Tsukuda Yuu, Himuro Ryuu…"

* * *

**Please ignore that terribly awkward chapter end. Furthermore, I apologize for my absence. I had finals last week, and around 13 projects and papers due the week before that, as well as volleyball tryouts for my school (I made the team, by the way, in case anyone cares). Even worse, my first week of summer has been a complete and utter disaster, which is why I'm updating today. Again, my sincere apologies.**

**NOW THAT THAT HAS BEEN SAID, THIS BIT I REALLY NEED YOU TO READ.**

**I'm coming to a crossroad with this story. I don't like how fast it's going, as I've stated before, and it genuinely feels like I'm doing a horrible job. I'm seriously considering just deleting this story, because I find it incredibly crappy and plotless. So, if y'all could do me a favor and give me ideas, that would be great. And when I say ideas, I mean ideas as in what you want to see. Do you want to see Lucha get involved in more mafia action? Do you want to see more Dino, or more Hibari? Am I not portraying the characters well enough?**

**And if you think I'm adding too many OCs, please inform me. I will try my best to re-write the story. If that fails, I am going to delete it. Also,-and this is a bit one-do you all like Lucha? Personally, I feel as if I'm making her too whiny. Please offer your opinions of her. DM me or leave a review, please. I can't fix all of my stupid mistakes unless you tell me what they are.**

**I have a poll on my profile page that lists some of the issues I can see, and I would love for you to take it.**

**Thanks for all your help!**

**\- Gluskabe**


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